To start with, I thought I'd share my personal freshman year experience.
I was the first member of my immediate family to go to college. I was basically wading in uncharted waters. After all of the applications, the paperwork, the FAFSA, and the campus tours, I knew where I wanted to go.
I arrived at Roger Williams University in Bristol, RI in August 2010. My freshman year was pretty miserable but I was forced light years out of my comfort zone and learned so much about myself.
My roommate.
Kristin and I met through the Facebook group made for incoming freshmen. This same Facebook group was being used to plan dorm parties a month before we even stepped foot on campus. I was so intimidated because I didn't drink or party at all in high school - I was the ultimate goody-too-shoes.
We reached out to each other because she lived so close to my hometown and we thought, oh great idea, we can carpool when we need to go home for school breaks! In theory, this sounded great. What I didn't realize was that Kristin would turn out to be the WORST ROOMMATE EVER, a hurricane of drama, and a pathological liar.
I know people in history who have had worse roommates, but this was no party. She would wear my underwear without asking. She would eat my food without asking. She lied about a pregnancy AND an abortion for attention. She would talk so much shit about one of our mutual friends, who was literally the nicest person on Earth and put up with all of her drama without ever complaining.
It was unreal. Especially the underwear part. So my advice is this: maybe just go for a random roommate.
At least this way, if they end up being unbearable, you can blame someone other than yourself.
At least this way, if they end up being unbearable, you can blame someone other than yourself.
My living conditions.
Maple 5, man. Maple 5. This dorm was literally the last on the list of preferences I gave to my school. They were towers with hallways of tiny dorm rooms. You had to walk across the hall to use the bathroom and shower. And this dorm just had a reputation of being a gross, loud, sloppy place to live.
Maple 5 did not disappoint. Almost daily, our common living area was destroyed in some way, shape, or form. The people who lived in my hall were not friendly, smart, or interesting. I'm being brutally honest here. They were going to our school because the acceptance rate is pretty easy and because mommy and daddy had a lot of money to blow. I come from a very diverse town in Connecticut in terms of race, socioeconomic class, and sexual orientations. I was like a fish out of water in this white-washed environment. My dorm-mates were drunk and spouting ignorant nonsense almost every night. I considered transferring at least once a week.
My classes.
I've always just been good at school. Required college classes were a breeze for me. I even got to skip a few because my AP scores from high school were high enough. I was able to find solace from my living conditions with the other dance majors. We refer to our graduating class of dance majors as an island of misfit toys. We had competition dancers, trained modern dancers, a classical ballet dancer, and me - somewhere in the middle. We were tall, short, overweight, and too skinny. One of us had a leg deformity. We got along great this first year because we were the underdogs and it was clear that the upperclassmen definitely didn't like us. But I fell in love with the dance program here and this, ultimately, is why I think I didn't end up transferring.
My social life.
I didn't turn 18 until late December, so halfway through my freshman year. Obviously, I was NOT the kind of person to get a fake ID, so while my crazy dorm-mates went to dirty, sweaty Providence clubs on the weekends, I stayed in with my psycho roommate, or any of my other introverted friends. We watched movies, studied (omg, what a loser I was this first year), and participated in club activities. I was in two clubs my freshman year. Dance Club and Add Nothing. Add Nothing was a club devoted to alternative activities for people who don't drink or do drugs. We'd go to pumpkin patches and play laser tag.
I know some of you (if you're still reading this biography) are dying to know:
why didn't you just drink?
The answer goes back to high school. I was so devoted to making my parents proud. I was also just so busy with dance classes and school work in high school that I told myself I didn't have time to go out. Really, I was just scared. I had never been drunk before - would I be myself drunk? Would people make fun of me? Would they take advantage of me?
I was not very trusting of new people my freshman year in college. In retrospect, this closed me off from meeting a lot of people that could have turned into lifelong friends.
So, I'm not saying you have to drink in college. Especially your freshman year. What I'm saying is that you need to fling yourself out of your comfort zone, because nothing beautiful ever happened there. I wish I could've given myself this advice six years ago.
And I want to make this clear: it wasn't all bad.
It gets better, obviously, because I graduated from this same school four years later.
But it could've been better, fuller, richer, lighter, and happier that very first year if I wasn't just damn scared.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Tell me about your freshman year experience.
Did you drink that first year?
What was your very first roommate like?
Leave a comment, it means so much for me to actively engage with anyone awesome enough to visit my little 'ol blog!
No comments